The best thing about Rob Heron and the Tea Pad Orchestra is that it’s like being transported to another world.
I listened to a podcast with Ian Hunter the other week, and the not-so-young dude was talking about watching Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis and how it allowed him to glimpse something else.
That’s what music can do. As much as people like Billy Bragg or Springsteen document the lives of everyone, sometimes you need to leave this world.
That’s what Heron does. Every time you put one of the records on, you are going back in time. Proudly having nothing to do with 2024 is to its credit, and “Good Lovin'” is even prouder to be back in the 50s and doo-wopping for all its worth.
Glorious innocence, as pure as rock and roll can possibly be; the sax solo here bristles with hope.
“Feet First” has been out for a couple of months, and writing this in the depths of winter gives “Six Months Sleeper”—his ode to hibernation—a different slant. To be honest, he might be onto something.
There’s just a sense of fun here. “Blood In The Water” reckons “I’m a lucky man,” and even the ballad “Three Button Suit” makes the best of its lot. She might have left him; he might have lost the roof over his head, but you aren’t breaking the spirit here.
And the reason why is in the next one: “I Blinked And It Was Over.” Speakeasy in the Prohibition era, or second line in New Orleans? Take your pick.
The harmonica on “More Fool You, Babe” knows it’s her loss, and the cheeky grin on “Skeletons In My Closet” sounds like it’s been left on the cutting-room floor of an Elvis film.
There’s a bit of a country tinge to “Broken Down And Broken Hearted,” but it’s typical of the way that Heron looks at the world that there’s no happy ending here. Instead, he is on a mad dash to meet his baby and has a car crash. It’s the plot of a sitcom, and “I Loved You More In My Dreams” sounds like every girl I’ve ever known.
No happy endings here. Even when he wants her, he can’t have her and is “Hungry For Your Love” on a jazzy, harmonious thing.
It’s hard to tell which are real here, given the nature of the songs, but I’m prepared to venture that “Another Night In The Doghouse” might have a kernel of truth to it.
“Happy Hour Again” is about a million miles from The Housemartins; put it this way, he’s in tears—and the reasons are clear. “Every day is misery,” he offers on “Every Day Is Misery,” “between the rock and roll.” The Stray Cats would be looking on enviously if they had a horn section.
The title track challenges the barman of his local to chuck him out. Guess what happens? But ever one to look on the bright side, Heron takes the win. “He was wrong, I was right. I told him I was leaving this barroom feet first.”
That’s rock and roll. And it proves Rob Heron is right about everything.
We’ve had a bit of a laugh with this—and I suspect Heron is just fine with that—but there’s one thing that’s deadly serious here, and that’s the commitment to making exceptional music.
Rating 9/10
REVIEW: ROB HERON AND THE TEA PAD ORCHESTRA – FEET FIRST (2024)
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